WORST SPOOF EVER!
by Irrepressable
Summary: I've finally done it. I've written this spoof. If there's a hell, I'm probably going there for writing this. Rated T, just to be safe, for twisted humor and not-so-subtle Lonely Island references. Read at your own risk!
1. Chapter 1

Things sucked for Sam Witwicky. Yeah, his dad had gotten him a newer car. No, it wasn't a cool muscle car or a sports car or anything, but a fricking red Prius. A FRICKING PRIUS! He had been stalked by said Prius, thrown against the hood of a car by a police car, interrogated about his dead explorer great-grandfather's glasses, and had his pants stolen! The only good part about it was that he had hottie hot-hot hotness Mikaela following him.

He had had the _genius_ idea of getting into the car, and now they were being taken who knows where. For god's sake, he was too young to be probed!

Wait, the car was driving him into an ally. They got out of the car, only to see a blue Dodge Viper with white racing stripes. The car stopped and three people got out. Three very GEEKY looking people. The apparent leader of the motley group was a short-ish, bespectacled young woman, about 5"3' with curly auburn hair. She was wearing blue Levi's with a tear in one knee, a black tee with the word 'REBEL' printed on it in white, and a pair of black Converses. Around her neck was a pendant depicting the same mask-like symbol that the red Prius had on its steering wheel. Her eyes were the most vivid shade of blue that Sam had ever seen.

Standing to her right and slightly behind her was a taller young man. He was about 6"3' and had shoulder-length straight black hair. He was wearing a black wife-beater top, a pair of grey camo cargo shorts, and earth toned sandals. He had bit of a slouch. He was wearing a black studded wrist band with the same mask-like symbol on it. His eyes too were an unearthly azure shade.

Finally, there was the third member of the group. He wasn't as short as the girl, but neither was he as tall as the other boy. He looked to be about 5"10' and had curly, mouse-brown hair. He was dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans of indeterminable make, a plaid button-up shirt, and a pair of white Nikes. He also had blue eyes and the symbol, only it was on his pocket protector. It was evident that he had a bit of as skin problem.

The two strange boys looked at the equally strange girl, then at the red Prius. All of a sudden, weird clanking noises filled the alley as the nerds and both vehicles seemed to fold apart. Within a matter of seconds, he was surrounded by ROBOTS! Well, maybe not _surrounded._ The girl had only grown by a foot and a half, and the boys had each grown by about two. The vehicles, however, were another story. The red Prius had transformed into a sixteen-foot-tall robot with a pair of wicked-looking red horns on its head. The Corvette turned into a lanky, 24-foot-tall blue robot with a weird horn-like thing on the top of its head. It looked to be on the verge of exploding, it was so jumpy with excitement.

It was the female, now black and silver and seven and a half feet tall, that spoke up first. "I am Shortimus Prime." She introduced herself. "We are autonomous robotic organisms from Cybertron."

The tall blue one blurted out, "ButyocancallusWeirdobots."  
"Weirdobots?" Sam asked

"Yeah," replied a silver and red robot, who had up until seconds ago had been the boy with the black hair, "You know, 'cause we're like, as you humans might say, the ass-crack end of the Autobot forces. The weirdoes of the group."

Shortimus Prime pouted, and put her hands on her hips. "Blurr, I hate it when you interrupt me!"

"Sorryma'am" Blurr hastily apologized.

Shortimus waved her hand dismissively. "Anyway, I've already introduced myself, so… whatever. Like, the red guy over there, that's Cliffjumber. Frankly, I'm amazed he hasn't gotten you killed. No self-control, that guy."

Sam swallowed nervously and Cliffjumper huffed angrily and started swearing under his breath. Shortimus ignored him. "You've already met Blurr."

The aforementioned blue bot waved in a friendly manner.

Shortimus pointed to a brown and green bot, which had a few blemishes on its armored exterior. "Our forum and online research specialist. His name's Bear Claw, but we like to call him Acnehide.'

"All your base are- HEY!" Acnehide snapped, offended.

"Ignore him. Look over yonder, Ladiesman217, and I'll show you my right-hand bot, designation; Jazz-In-His-Pants."

"Like a boss!" Jazz-In-His-Pants, the red and silver bot, declared loudly.

Shortimus just facepalmed and muttered, "Fricking Lonely Island…"

"You're just mad 'cause you're a-" J.I.M.P. began.

"DON'T YOU SAY IT!" Shortimus barked, "If you call me a midget-bot again, I swear, I will kick your skid plate from here to Cybertron!"

Sam and Mikaela watched as the argument between the bots escallated, Cliffjumper eventually throwing his two cents in as Blurr tried frantically to keep the peace.

Yeah… they were screwed.

* * *

**To be completely honest, I have no idea if I'm going to finish this. It's just an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. And yes, I just HAD to make Cliffjumper a Prius.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**After all this time, I have finally come up with another installation to "WORST SPOOF EVER"! Yayness! Big thanks to my older brother, who helped me write this story!  
**

**

* * *

**

As the Autobot group drove closer to yet another house, Cliffjumper grumbled angrily at Sam, "This had better be your house, or I swear, I'll-"

"We're here!" Sam squeaked, thoroughly intimidated by Cliffjumper's near-constant threats and accusations.

Rolling her eyes, Shortimus snorted, "Just ignore him. He won't REALLY kill you by transforming with you inside him."

Shoulders slumping in relief, Sam responded, "Really? That's awesome. Are you guys, like, not allowed to harm humans?"

"Of course we can!" Shortimus replied, her grin not fading in the least, "But it _would_ make a huge mess, and it'd take _forever_ for him to clean your guts out of his parts."

Wincing away with a whimper, Sam quickly opened the door and sprinted over to his house, followed immediately afterwards by Shortimus. As they climbed up into his room, Sam asked, "Why did you ask Mikaela to ride with the other guy?"

"Who, Blurr?" Shortimus replied, "Well, C.J. likes to assume that most skinny, orange-skinned women are secretly Decepticon agents. That's his deal. Also, I asked Acnehide to get me footage of her beating the scrap out of J.P. with a socket wrench."

"Why would you ask him that?" Sam asked uneasily,

"Oh, 'cause he's what you humans call a 'pig' and he'll probably try to touch her chest at least once." Shortimus replied nonchalantly, "But don't worry. We Cybertronians are made of tough stuff, even the small ones like Acnehide, JP, and me. Besides, even if she is too rough with him, I've ordered Blurr to restrain them before she kills him."

"Um... you're insane." Sam stated bluntly.

"So some say, Ladiesman217. So some say." was the still-cheerful Shortimus' response.

* * *

"What a fascinating device!" J.P. gasped, bending down to stare at the shiny object in front of him, "What is this wondrous thing's purpose?"

"It's called a _doorbell_." Mikaela replied, her arm still too tired from beating the alien with a socket wrench to hit him again, "When you press it, it makes a sound, but you shouldn't-"

DING-DONG!

"Ooh, I love it!" J.P. squealed childishly, "It's almost better than tentacle porn!"

Turning to face Acnehide, Mikaela sighed in annoyance and asked, "Where did you pick up this guy?"

"N-Not s-sure." Acnehide stammered, speaking as if he was on the verge of hyperventilating, "Sh-Shortimus has known him longer than I-I-I h-have. All I know is th-that when he arrived on this p-planet, he landed in a s-sci-fi erotica convention."

The thin, attractive human female once again resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Well, that explains a little bit," she sighed, "What about you, 'Claw?"

Swallowing nervously, Acnehide thought back to what happened when he arrived on earth.

**_-Flashback tiem!-_**

**_Acnehide's balled-up form roared into the atmosphere, shooting off sparks of insulating material. He tried to steer himself away from any local residences, and finally settled upon a small, artificial body of water. He crashed into the pool with a loud roar. _**

**_After allowing his body to cool, he stood up and looked around. In front of him was a woman, around 18 years of age. She was sitting in a smaller body of water, whose thermal energy was much greater than the one he now stood in. She stood up, and his optics automatically blurred out her upper and lower torso._**

**_"Excuse me," she said. "My name is Generica Beautiful Woman. Are you my study date?"_**

**_Acnehide just stood there, hyperventilating._**

**_After what felt like an eternity, his vocals finally started working again as he let out a shrill, emasculating scream and bolted away from the female, who just stood there, staring in confusion._**

**_-Flashback end-_**

Still hyperventilating and twitching nervously at the memory, Acnehide mumbled, "Err... um... it's a l-long story."

Not sure if she wanted to know, Mikaela just shrugged and turned to try to stop Jazz-In-His-Pants, who had by then rung the doorbell several times. Before she could tell him to stop, the door opened, and a woman whom she presumed to be Sam's mother stood in the doorway. Not really phased at the prospect of strangers at the door at that hour at night, Mrs. Witwicky smiled and said, "Hi! Are you Sam's friends?"

Right away, J.P. pointed at Mikaela and said, "She is."

"What about you?" Inquired Mrs. Witwicky.

After a brief silence, J.P. ripped off his shirt and yelled, "STRIPPER-GRAM!"

A loud crash came from the other side of the house. Mikaela promptly facepalmed, figuring it had something to do with either Cliffjumper or Blurr. Jazz-In-His-Pants continued to twirl his shirt over his head, swaying his hips and dancing sensually.


End file.
